Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song It Ain't Nothin' (feat. Young De), artist - Cypress Hill.
Date of issue: 31.12.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
It Ain't Nothin' (feat. Young De) |
I used to carry a Glock on the waist line |
Man I don’t waste time |
I’m strong on the bass line |
You’ll never taste mine |
See me on the screen |
Fuckers beggin' for face time |
Get your own tape |
But don’t bother to chase mine |
I got a block, man, we havin' a great time |
You couldn’t fill the shoes |
Anytime that I laced mine |
Light up the stage |
For the homies we make shine |
Sick the dogs on you get more by the K-9 |
Homies on the yard never walk in the main line |
The manes find that they can never be in the game |
I’m lettin' off rounds |
Hittin' blunts at the same time |
Pick a crew homie |
You a neon to save time |
Bitches like you always spittin' the same rhymes |
We put you all to shame |
You never went through the same grind |
Put you in the bind the minute you came by |
So stay in your lane and get wet by the rain |
You wanna step up get your ass touched |
You wanna rap, son, get your ass buff |
Try to test us, you’s gonna get smashed up |
You wanna run wit the dogs? |
Get your cash up |
Git it |
You gotta get your straps up |
Git it |
You gotta get your stash up |
Git it |
You gotta get amped up |
You wanna run wit the dogs? |
Get your cash up |
I’m right here on the block |
When it’s time to ride out, you know what I’m all about |
Hundred Harley bikes on site when it goes down |
Me and my homies, we always holdin' the fort down |
Come up in our town and your pissin' a fourth now |
Got 4 ounces and 3 bottle’s of Jack |
2 fifth’s in the back and everyone I’m with’s strapped |
What ever happened |
To chin checkin' and wreckin' fools |
Try disrespecting me |
My Smith & Wesson is endin' you |
And I ain’t changed since back in the day |
Get your shit split quick if you get in my face |
You wanna run with the dog |
Better stay in your place |
Cuss your little ass name, don’t hold no weight |
And your little ass safe couldn’t hold my cake |
Get your asks denied down the road I take |
And let me tell you one more thing before I skate |
If you a fake or a snake, I’mma send you to your grave |
You wanna step up get your ass touched |
You wanna rap, son, get your ass buff |
Try to test us, you’s gonna get smashed up |
You wanna run wit the dogs? |
Get your cash up |
Git it |
You gotta get your straps up |
Git it |
You gotta get your stash up |
Git it |
You gotta get amped up |
You wanna run wit the dogs? |
Get your cash up |
Im a First Staff OG from outta the gutter |
With a fucked up demeanor for you punk mothafuckas |
Get played like some dicks who try to start ruckas |
I’m a real gun busta so don’t ever try to rush us |
Can’t nobody touch us that don’t leave on crutches |
Or worse, get a ride in a Hearse with their bodies covered |
It’s gunna be a cold summer |
As soon as the hilt drops |
ALL BULLSHIT WILL STOP |
A couple scums in the street |
We don’t care what you Bustas think |
It might sink in sometime |
But I won’t blink |
We go against everything |
Smoke all the green |
Got the flow wrong, swing it ain’t nothing to me |
We put it down anywhere like it’s something to see |
So all you bitches goin' rogue with your haters degree |
And when you wanna get loud son I’m ready to work |
Punks act up and you bound to get hurt |
You wanna step up get your ass touched |
You wanna rap, son, get your ass buff |
Try to test us, you’s gonna get smashed up |
You wanna run wit the dogs? |
Get your cash up |
Git it |
You gotta get your straps up |
Git it |
You gotta get your stash up |
Git it |
You gotta get amped up |
You wanna run wit the dogs? |
Get your cash up |